


Fuck Nazis (literally)

by her_royal_trashiness



Category: The Centricide (Webseries)
Genre: Canon Non-Binary Character, Crack Treated Seriously, F/M, Gangbang, Gender or Sex Swap, I hope JREG doesn't read this, I hope r/JREG doesn't read this, It all goes downhill from there, Lowkey Crack, M/M, Multi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, authright wakes up with boobs and a vagina, but mostly just authright, don't expect much plot, downright filth, femboys, nazi gets fucked as male and female, they all fuck each other - Freeform, underage tag for ancap's child wives
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:28:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24722308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/her_royal_trashiness/pseuds/her_royal_trashiness
Summary: Authright gets fucked. Many times. Many ways.
Relationships: Ancap/Libertarian/Authright, Nazi/Ancap, Nazi/Ancom, Nazi/Nazbol, nazi/tankie, opposite unity - Relationship
Comments: 45
Kudos: 113





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this takes place somewhere near the beginning of the series, also authright doesn't use qi's pronouns or name for obvious reasons

Nazi wakes up one day with breasts. They're small enough that he doesn't notice it until he's scrambling out of his monographed pajamas and two lumps tug against his silk blouse, just enough to catch his attention — and that's when he clutches both hands to his chest, feeling the unwelcome and undeniable new presences, and sinks to his knees in despair.

 _It's a soy overdose_ , Nazi thinks with dawning horror. Ancom must have been steadily sneaking the blasted thing into his dinner, or perhaps had been adding estrogen medication to his daily plate of wine and cheeses, or something. Something, anything, to explain this.

Was this part of Ancom's Jewish globalist liberal agenda? 

The rational part of his brain tells him not to storm Ancom's room right now and demand answers, because if anything, Nazi has created the perfect image of someone unyielding and indomitable. He's always been for the weak get weaker, the strong get stronger, and if he exposes anything right now in this critical moment it'll surely be used against him later. No, for now, he'll keep his breasts secret, and keep a watch out for any of Ancom's further movements. 

It's a solid plan, until he goes to use the washroom and realizes that in the distraction of discovering his new breasts, he'd failed to notice his absence of a penis. He slips a hand down there, just to double check, but the familiar weight of his balls are replaced by smooth skin and folds. And, even further down, a new hole. 

A hole.

 _A hole_.

Nazi screams in rage, too occupied to care about the other ideologies in the house, and promptly discovers that his voice is an entire pitch higher. That only serves to make him scream even more furiously. He beats his hands against the countertops, pain arching through his hands, and then looks up at the mirror and has the shocking realization that his entire appearance is different.

His curly hair is the same length, but his face is different. And _smaller_. And softer too, with only a hint left of the chiseled jawline he'd prided himself for as proof of his superior heritage.

All gone.

Instead, he's staring at a woman's face.

Mind you, he makes for an attractive woman, but that isn't the point here — and the good-looking was a guaranteed, of course, with his genetics. No, what he faces now are his future plans for the utopian nationalist ethnostate. How can a woman, the backbone of the nuclear family and the object of reverence in the cult of domesticity, be able to lead a major revolution? How will he get any traction from his followers? Women aren't meant for politics — that, without fail, led to clear degeneracy in a state and the regression of traditional values. 

Everything he'd ever worked for is at risk if he doesn't find a way to turn back, and quickly.

The shock fades quickly and he's screeches at the mirror, scrabbling at his grotesque reflection with his bare hands, as if he can erase everything that's occurred since waking up with the wave of his palm.

_Bang!_

"Are you in there, Nazi?" a gruff voice shouts from outside the door. "You do not sound alright."

Dread forms in the back of Nazi's spine as he suddenly realizes the repercussions of what his new form will mean once the others realize the truth. He immediately closes his mouth, staring at the door in silent trepidation.

"Man, he was screaming like a girl in there," Ancap drawls. "I almost thought one of my child wives got caught on the electric fence outside my basement or something."

His words are so degenerate Nazi wants to snipe at him on principle, then remembers his precarious position in the last second and shuts his mouth, saying nothing.

Someone knocks from outside again and Nazi holds his breath, not daring to make a single sound. It's humiliating to be in this position, afraid and silent. Everything is wrong, wrong, wrong. He shouldn't be the victim. No, some minority should be in his place, cowering from his mighty presence, _not him_ —

"Stand back. I will open the door," Authcom says, and his words are a death knell.

"You sure you want to pay for the repairs?" Ancap says. "Nah, have Ancom go and pick the lock. Don't go damaging my property like that."

Ancap mutters something unflattering about Nazis under his breath as the door handle jiggles. Nazi's breath hitches and he stares, unable to tear his eyes away.

The door opens.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did warn you guys that this was PWP aka no plot lol

"So," says Authcom, once the shock has mostly worn off. He looks relatively unfazed about this, all things considered. "You woke up and are now girl."

"Yes, Commie, I am now girl," Nazi snarks, gesturing to his breasts. "But I suppose you wouldn't know a female looks like, wouldn't you — you being who you are."

Most of the terror he'd felt after his initial discovery is gone, replaced by a strange wash of placidness — fueled mostly by spite — that demands that this sudden shift in gender will _not_ be a weakness for him. Since he's already been discovered and there's no clue as to why, he might as well embrace the change... for now.

Something flashes past Authcom's eyes, something a little more than just annoyance. Just as quickly, it disappears. "Unlike Nazism, Communism does not care whether you are man or woman. All people must procreate new future workers for the sake of the state."

"Ugh, must you phrase it so crudely?" Nazi says. "Have some more respect for the union between husband and wife."

Ancom sneers from the side. "Nazi, you used to believe that white women were only there to breed more Aryan babies."

"Yes, well, I still do," Nazi says. "Do you know that children raised in a white nuclear family are over eighty percent less likely to—"

"Yeah yeah yeah, thirteen percent. Like I'm going to listen to anything from a Nazi," Ancom quips back.

"You can't exactly call me a 'privileged cis white male' whatever-the-fuck anymore—"

"Yeah, now we got fucking Nazi Karen on our hands—"

"I swear, you keyboard warriors only get more and more moronic each day—"

"Oh yeah? I'll smash your kneecaps in, Nazi. I don't care if you're a woman now. Anyone who makes an enemy out of me gets the bat—"

"How about a bullet in the head for degenerates, how does that sound—"

"Do you feel any ideological differences, Nazi?" Ancap says, interrupting them both. He peers over his sunglasses, his sleazy eyes oozing with self-serving greed. "I mean, now that you're a woman, perhaps a shift to... Feminazism? Ooh, that would be a good new audience for my new line of T-shirts. What do you think of 'gender-identitarian' tea mugs?"

"Shut the fuck up, Ancap," Nazi says. He pats at his sleeves a little gingerly. "My ideology is the same. I'm just... a woman now. Now, if only I could find a way to still have a platform to espouse my political views while also deferring to male members of my party..."

The thought strikes him just as soon as he says it.

Right! The answer was right in front of him the whole time. He could still be a leader of the nationalist ethnostate utopia. All he had to do was pop out a few Aryan babies first; then, after he had finished his duties to the cult of domesticity, he could take on his own career and better the lives of his people.

He could work with this.

Now, to find a good, Aryan man first.

* * *

**CANDIDATES**

Conservative — Anyone who still believed in religion and that quack Jordan B. Peterson needed a few bullets in their skull to rearrange their brain cells. 6/10.

Commie — Not a chance. No child of his would have any Slavic blood or that suspiciously large nose. 3/10.

Ancom — Race traitors were worse than minorities. 1/10.

~~Nazbol — He wasn't about to make another mistake with this one. 0/10.~~

Ancap — Surprisingly was not a Jew. Shared his genocidal tendencies. 7/10.

* * *

_A Conversation:_

"Ancap, be the Aryan father of my children," Nazi proposes.

Ancap raises an eyebrow. "You're too old for me, though the breasts _are_ how I like them."

"I'll pay you $20."

"Deal."

* * *

Normally, Nazi would be more adamant on having the nuclear family aspects of both a father and a mother, but he figures that since its wartime he'll raise the children as if their father was at war.

Or... he could pretend the man was killed in action, preferably, so he could then take on the "grieving widow" role and ship off the children to some boarding school and forget about them while advancing his political agenda.

Either way, he has his plan mapped out.

* * *

Ancap fucks mechanically, each thrust calculated to draw out maximum pleasure with minimum effort.

Nazi is sprawled over the sheets, his arms pinned down on either side of his head and head lolled over to the side. The air smells of sweat and sex. Ancap's grotesquely grinning face looms over his, their noses so close that every time Nazi unwillingly bucks his head they brush together rather unpleasantly.

"You look much better when you aren't trying to infringe on my rights," Ancap says, his breath warm against Nazi's flushed cheeks. "Pity you aren't a man anymore, though. It would have been much more satisfying to fuck you."

"The fuck does that even mean?"

Ancap bites the side of Nazi's jaw, his teeth grazing against skin and sinew. "I like to crush my enemies into the dirt and let them taste a little market despair," he says. "How nice would it have been for you to _beg_ me to fund you, having lost everything to your absurd, idealistic Fascist state. To have no choice but to turn to _me_ and admit that you were wrong. I would have made you humiliate yourself and defile yourself in degeneracy to prove to everyone the consequences of foolishly choosing Statism."

Nazi isn't sure whether he's offended or not that Ancap seems to be more attracted to his male self. 

But then Ancap grinds inside of him just like that, and Nazi feels his thighs shaking uncontrollably, and has him thinking that okay, maybe he was wrong before, a _little_ degeneracy never hurt anyone—

Ancap moves his head down to bite Nazi's left breast, his tongue toying with the nipple. Then he begins to suckle on it in a way that makes Nazi think that Ancap's sexual preferences for young girls were really just a fear of sexual relationships with older women because of incurable mommy issues.

The sensation is weird. Not great, but also vaguely pleasurable.

They stay like that for a while, Ancap suckling both his breasts and keeping a constant, maddeningly slow rhythm inside of him.

Just like that, Ancap comes first. Nazi feels the sudden wetness spill inside of him, then the feeling of being filled by something, and in a matter of seconds Ancap pulls out from between his thighs leaving Nazi sorely, sorely sating.

"That's it?"

"That's all you paid for."

Nazi pushes him down, reversing their positions. "I don't think so."

"See, that's the thing I hate about you Statists..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ancap definitely has mommy issues for ayn rand new headcanon


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this entire fic is basically dedicated to u/demonic_plague on reddit 
> 
> thank you for this post: https://www.reddit.com/r/Jreg/comments/h0zazo/i_want_to_infringe_upon_your_rights_i_put_way_too/
> 
> i promise i will write smutty sexy sex sex of this image one day but holy shit if that's not the best thing i've ever seen in my life

"There's been a new development," Jreg phones in to the extremists.

The four of them have gathered in the living room: Ancom and Authcom sitting side by side on the loveseat, Nazi lounging in the armchair, and Ancap sprawled on the couch near the window. The phone is on speakerphone in Authcom's hand (Nazi has always suspected that Jreg has a soft spot for the authoritarian left quadrant, for all his talk about anti-centricide).

"The ghost of Julius Evola, who makes up one fourth of my current identity, is currently being bitch-slapped in my mind by a female ghost who claims that his views on gender and sex roles are flawed in that it should not be inequality between the sexes, but rather the acknowledgement that each sex specializes in different roles that contribute to the perfect utopian Aryan society," Jreg declares. "I believe that this woman is the ghost of Savitri Devi. Nazi, you would know her better than I do, since she's been too preoccupied with dealing with Evola to talk to me..."

Nazi pauses, not knowing how to process the new information. "I do."

"Well, I heard about what happened to you from Commie," says Jreg (Nazi shoots a glare at Authcom, who smiles smugly back), "and I think it's clear that your current gender confusion is because of this new... well, visitor."

Ancom seems particularly agitated by this. "But Ayn Rand is female, and Ancap over there is still a smug capitalist cis white male."

"Well, he _does_ turn into pink capitalist every year," says Jreg. 

"Anyway, I think the solution is simple," Nazi says, finally seeing the light out of the tunnel. To think he wasted $20 on subpar premarital sex with Ancap when the answer was right in front of him. "You just kick out Savitri Devi, and I get my body back."

Of course, it's never as easy as that.

"It's not that simple," Jreg explains. "Savitri Devi's power as a literal priestess of a deified Hitler gives her more power than I could have imagined. She's currently trying to merge with the ghost of Julius Evola by forcing him to have spiritual copulation with him. If they successfully combine, I don't know what the consequences will be for the political compass or the Overton Window."

"Oh great," Ancom says. "Nazi getting more powerful. Fucking wonderful."

"We'll still be continuing the Centricide, of course," Jreg says. "Anyway, I'll call you guys back later once they finish having ghost sex in my brain. Bye."

The phone call ends with a beep.

* * *

"It's not fair," Ancom bemoans afterwards, cornering Nazi in the hallway where the bedrooms are. "I just want to feel _right_ in my body! I want breasts and a vagina! That's all I've ever wanted! The only thing! ...How come the fucking Nazi gets everything, while I'm left with nothing? Every fucking time, I'm fucking oppressed by privileged fucks like you!"

Nazi scoffs. "Stop whining. You think I want this body?"

"Well, it didn't exactly stop you from fucking Ancap first thing after you got it."

"That was for the good of my people."

"You don't give a fuck about your people. You just want the power to kill everyone you don't like," Ancom sniffs. He's crying, like the weak fucking pussy he is. Of course. "But all I want happiness. Something that LSD and DMT... will never give me..."

"Shut the fuck up already," Nazi huffs. "You're hurting my ears."

"Don't you want to return to being a man, Nazi?" Ancom says. "That's what I feel. Every. Single. Day. I want to be a woman so bad. I don't want to wake up every day knowing that I was born in the wrong body anymore. I'm sick of it!"

"Well, if you're so fucking sick of it, do something instead of whining all day!" Nazi says. "I can't stand you weak people. Look, I didn't want to be a woman either, but at least I'm doing something with it so that I can fucking adapt instead of becoming a whimpering drug-riddled degenerate like you!"

Nazi doesn't wonder if he'd gone too far, of course, but even he can sense the uncomfortable atmosphere in the air before Ancom speaks again.

"Of course you would say that," Ancom says. His voice cracks as he backs away from Nazi, turning to leave to his own room. "I'm going to take some shrooms. I'm tired of _feeling_."

* * *

Someone knocks on Nazi's door in the middle of the night.

Nazi crawls out of his blankets with the iron will he'd possessed when, then steps into his monographed slippers (matching his silk pajamas, of course) to open the door.

Ancap's leering face grins at him.

"I don't remember paying you for anything today, Ancap," Nazi says. "What do you want."

" _Ah, ah, ah,_ Nazi," Ancap says. "So serious, as always. Well, see, I've decided that in light of our good friendship, I'm going to offer you a deal you can't refuse."

He steps forward, and some bizarre compulsion makes Nazi move aside to let him into the room.

"Now, I was thinking, instead of you always having to pay me money, which I do like, mind you, we make a trade agreement instead, which I also like."

He sits on the bed, his legs spread apart arrogantly and his hands clasped in between. Nazi knows what Ancap's trying to do — this is something straight out of his own intimidation tactics book — and he isn't going to buy it.

"I asked you, what do you want," Nazi says. "Look, I'm just paying you to impregnate me. That's all there is to it."

"Not when you have something I want as well," Ancap says. There is something awfully sleazy about the man that makes it feel like every word is coated in grease. "I want you to sit on my face."

Nazi balks, and is about to give a flat out objection when the thought occurs to him again — _a little degeneracy never hurt_ — and suddenly that offer isn't as disgusting as it was, all things considered.

Ancap smiles, then goes in for the kill. "And, of course, how could I forget this."

He presents a piece of paper. Nazi grabs it from his hand, skimming over the contents:

_—the signer will be required to—_

"You want me to let you drink my breastmilk after I successfully conceive?" Nazi asks incredulously.

"Do we have a deal?" is all Ancap offers in reply. He smiles, all teeth.

* * *

It turns out that Ancap's tongue isn't just for sleazily licking his lips. 

* * *

When they fuck this time, Ancap has Nazi sit on top of him. The new position gives Nazi a little more control, which he likes, but the length in him feels impossibly deep; every time he moves even the slightest amount, he can feel it squelching pornographically inside of him, too much all at once, as if if he sinks down just a little more, the whole thing will pierce through his uterus and into the stomach...

"Put your hands here," Ancap says, pulling Nazi's hands to his neck. "Squeeze as hard as your little lady fingers can, will you."

Nazi blinks, somewhat dazed, and does as directed. Ancap's face warps and Nazi can feel the neck desperately contracting as it struggles for air in between his hands, and yes, he really wouldn't mind this at all.

Ancap shudders below him, his pupils blown out wide and face tomato red. Nazi watches his every new expression, fascinated by how easy it is to kill a man up close. So this is how Authcom feels when he wrings the necks of his enemies.

Nazi finally lets go when Ancap comes, the dick inside of him softening. Globs of cum splatter out from between his thighs and onto the sheets.

Ancap sputters for breath. "That's all you got?" Even like this, there's an arrogant glint to his eye that Nazi wants to crush to dirt below his heel.

"Far from it," Nazi says. He shifts his weight off of Ancap's limp dick, then presses one hand on Ancap's chest, the other moving to curl around his bruised neck once again. "All you had to do was ask."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> does it make sense that ancap wants fem!nazi to semi-dom him but also wants to ruthlessly exploit male nazi at the same time
> 
> okay if it doesn't just assume mommy issues b/c ayn rand  
> that's going to be my answer to everything from now tbh
> 
> also yes i know nazi pushed the ancap down last time they had sex except let's assume they were both lying down on top of each other aka reverse missionary and this time is cowgirl


	4. Chapter 4

Ancap spends the next day with a visible purple mark around his neck and his voice hoarse. Nazi stares at the palm-shaped bruise, pleased, and his mood only goes up when Ancom and Authcom stare at it with visible disgust.

"How can you fuck a Nazi," Ancom says, his voice a high-pitched whine. "He wants to take away your rights!"

Nazi rolls his eyes. "Grow up, _kiddie_ ," he says, emphasizing Authcom's god-awful nickname for that freak. "And let the adults have their fun."

"We gotta bash the fash—"

"The average follower of your ideology is _15_ —"

Authcom slams his fist against the countertop.

"Shut the fuck up, both of you," he roars. "I am sick of all of you _kulaks_!"

The room becomes quiet.

"Ancom, you are hurting my ears," Authcom says, then turns around wildly to point at Nazi. "And—And you! You are more degenerate than those you claim to hate. Look at you! Capitalism is the greatest evil of our time, so how can you consort with the enemy—"

"Better someone with values than a failed attempt of an ideology," Nazi says, crossing his arms. "How many chances has communism been given? How often _has_ it worked? Look—Soviet Russia, China, Vietnam—all of them are now a Smithian wet dream of unfettered capitalism—"

"Then tell me, _burzhuj_ , how fascism is supposed to work? Your ideology died out a century ago. You are nothing but wacky ideology posturing itself to be the far right extreme when really, it should be the Monarchist instead!"

At that, Nazi has heard enough. He can't reason with communists, not at all, and this is exactly why they all deserve to have bullets put through their pathetically small brains. It's with this thought in mind that he steps away, not because of any cowardice, see, but the assuredness that nothing he says will ever pierce through that thick Slavic skull.

He makes it as far as the hallway before Authcom storms behind him and shoves him to the wall. 

"You can't run away from this argument, Nazi," Authcom seethes, slamming both his hands over Nazi's shoulders. "Look at me, and tell me why you and that pig did—"

Nazi gives him a supercilious look. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were jealous."

The whole thing is so cliche that Nazi isn't even surprised when Authcom snarls and bends down to smash his lips against Nazi's. It's just as brutish and uncultured as the man himself, and Nazi can taste something bitter on Authcom's tongue when it shoves itself into his mouth.

Nazi pushes as hard as he can, trying to throw the possibly inebriated Authcom off of him, but the other party has at least thirty centimeters and twenty kilos on him now that he's in his current state. It's easy enough for Authcom to half-carry, half-drag Nazi to his room, where he's rather unceremoniously thrown onto the bed.

"I have seen," Authcom begins, stripping off his coat and shirt and moving forward to remove Nazi's own, "the way you looked at me before. You cannot tell me you have not thought about this before, da."

"You are mistaken," Nazi snaps back, trying to stand his ground. He resists the urge to shift backwards on his bed because — well, because he's not frightened, just annoyed. Commie's delusional, and now his perfect plan is about to get potentially tainted with serf blood.

"Oh come on," Authcom says, upon seeing his expression. His own is something that Nazi has never seen before, something between animalistic and wrathful. "You cannot honestly believe that you can have baby. You are not even real human. You are just physical manifestation of will, reflecting the ideals of whatever fucked up shit ideologies humans create next."

"You're wrong," Nazi says. "I have to have that baby. I can't be reduced to playing housewife, I have to lead my people!"

Authcom sets a knee on the bed, shifting his weight so that he looms over Nazi. "Now you finally know how women feel, good riddance," he snorts. "You fascists will only shoot yourselves in foot if you do not make everyone equal. Look at you now. So desperate to fulfill your duty as a woman before you even think of doing great things. This is why your ideology will never succeed."

"I have to," Nazi repeats, but the conviction is fading fast.

Authcom rips off Nazi's blouse easily; the buttons pop, scattering over the bed and the floor. Nazi watches them fall in half-hearted irritation.

"You really are idiot," Authcom says, but it's more fond than anything else. "Well, I cannot say that you are useless. Everyone has part to play in society. Yours is to lie under me."

"Horny bastard."

"You are the real horny bastard," Authcom says, pulling Nazi's pants down and reaching between his thighs. Two fingers squelch grotesquely inside him. "Look. So wet. So eager."

It's all too fucking cliche, and the worst part is that Nazi's being turned on. Commie is much larger than Ancap, and somehow the size disparity between the two of them has awakened the dormant urge for an approving father figure within him. He doesn't mention it, of course. He won't show weakness, no matter what.

Authcom fingers Nazi with one hand and unbuckles his belt with the other. Then, all of a sudden, the fingers are gone, and the only warning of what comes next is Authcom positioning himself and then—

Nazi groans as the length slowly slides into him. Authcom is a good amount wider than Ancap, and, from the almost cramp-like sensation inside of him, longer too. 

And then he thrusts.

For a second, Nazi feels like he's being split in half. It's too much, too deep, and his legs spasm erratically like being electrocuted. He tries to shift away, but all eighty kilos of Authcom are holding him down, and he can only lay there and take it all, but he _can't_ , and he's faintly aware of the pained moaning sound dragging itself out of his throat—

"You like that, _kulak_?" Authcom mutters, his breath warm against Nazi's ear. "Look at you now. Getting fucked on your back and crying. This is all you fascists are good for, da?"

Authcom is nothing like Ancap. Ancap is slower and efficient and lazy. Authright fucks like the impact of a Molotov cocktail: explosive, forceful, and much too fast. His hands explore Nazi's breasts, his waist, the curve of his neck and settle there, the weight heavy and threatening, and for a second Nazi wonders with bated breath if _he_ will be the one sporting angry bruises the next day.

But the hands leave. 

"You," Authcom says. He stares at Nazi, who stares back defiantly. "You will be death of me."

He bites Nazi's shoulder, the teeth sinking in deep enough to draw out blood, but Nazi is too busy moaning to object. The sensation sends pricks of electricity down his spine, and he chokes on air as a climatic release of pleasure bursts from deep within him and his entire body shudders.

Authcom keeps thrusting the entire time, and Nazi is far too sensitive — each thrust draws out more and more painful pleasure, the feeling so intense that he's sure he won't survive if it continues, it's far too much, he can't, _he can't_ —

He doesn't remember Authcom coming into him.


	5. Chapter 5

Nazi wakes up on an unfamiliar bed, his legs aching and a bad taste in his mouth

 _Oh,_ is the first thing he thinks. _I'm going to shoot five holes in that Commie's brain_ is the second.

The blankets are piled high over him. They look and feel cheap; Nazi can still feel the chill of the morning air even when positively buried in them. It smells of sex and smoke, and he has half a mind to burn the whole room down if only Ancap wouldn't raise such a fuss about it.

Authcom is missing. Likely guilt, because he spends too much time with that faggot and has started developing ' _feelings_ '. Urgh. If he was going to force Nazi into bed, he might as well be man enough to face the aftermath in the morning.

He sits up gingerly, and cusses when a dribble of semen flows out from between his already encrusted thighs. Authcom really _is_ a beast, he thinks, and deserves every second of the concentration camp he belongs in. 

He finds his clothes on the floor. His blouse is permanently damaged, with most of the buttons scattered to the wind, so half of his chest is exposed obscenely when he puts it on. He flips the shirt and resigns to doing some bullshit to fuck with Authcom, like stealing all the sugar in the house to put in his tea. _That_ would teach him a lesson about how communalism never worked.

Nazi's shoes were knocked off when Authcom pressed him down, and he spends a few minutes fumbling around before he finds one shoe lodged underneath the bedside nightstand and the other by the baseboard. At this point he feels like shit and is half certain he looks like it too, and the only thing on his mind is a shower and a fresh change of clothes. 

He half staggers, half limps to the door. 

Authcom is standing in the doorway.

At first, Authcom's expression is confused, like he's not sure what's going on, before it settles into something more resigned. _Good_ , Nazi thinks, _you're resigned to the fact that I'm going to take a page from that faggot's book and bash you in the fucking skull_.

"What the fuck was that yesterday?" Nazi spits, and he'd probably be much more threatening if he wasn't a woman and didn't look like he'd been fucked to next week. 

"You are angry," Authcom observes.

"And why do you think I'm angry?"

"I do not understand," says Authcom. "You wanted it too. You provoked me on purpose, no?"

If Nazi was a faggot ladyboy, Commie would get a swift lecture on rape culture and whatever the fuck SJW libtards believed in, and then get lynched by a mob of angry bat-wielding women led by a cocaine-fueled Ancom. As it is, Nazi is not a SJW libtard, and does not believe in rape culture, and so there is no cocaine-fueled Ancom at his disposal. He settles with an angry slap in the face instead.

"Whatever gave you the idea I wanted your Slavic fluids inside of me?" says Nazi. "You think just because I'm like—like this, you can push me down whenever? That I'll just spread my legs for you like a liberal whore?"

"I see," says Authcom. He hasn't moved since the conversation began, not even flinching when Nazi slapped him. "You believe in gender equality only when it is... convenient for you, _da_?"

"Shut the fuck up," says Nazi, seething, and raises his hand again.

Authcom is faster. Nazi feels the blow before he sees it—a blur of red and brown—and he's thrown backwards onto the floor, winded, a searing pain against his abdomen.

"There's your gender equality," Authcom croons. "You hit me, I hit you, no?"

Nazi is furious and in pain and _furious_ and in _so, so much pain_...

He can't get up. He doubles down on himself, furious at his weakness and furious at Savitri Devi and _furious at Authcom—_

"Now you understand?" Authcom says, stepping in front of him. Nazi stares numbly at the leather combat boots, and pictures bullet holes shredding them apart. "I don't treat you like lady, because we are _all_ equal."

Suddenly, Nazi is all too aware that Commie is not some crazy Soviet man who drinks too much and occasionally joins him for a round of Call of Duty. Commie is an extremist totalitarian ideology rivaling his own (though he's loathe to admit it) that makes his own kill count look like pennies—and whose main defense strategy in war is _scorching his own land_. In Nazi's current state, unarmed, weak, and defenseless, Commie is not his opponent.

 _None of this would have happened if it weren't for that Savitri Devi not knowing her place—this is why we don't allow women in politics, they always find a way to fuck it all up and look at me now—it's all her fault it's all her fault it's all her fault_ —

Authcom pulls Nazi up by the collar, dangling him in the air. "How about this," he says, grabbing Nazi's jaw and forcing it up. "You apologize to me for hitting me, and I will forget about it. We go back to normal, _d_ _a_?"

Nazi trembles. He feels the anger rush through his body like a torrent, until he's uncontrollably shaking.

He won't say it. He _can't_ say it. 

But it's getting harder and harder to breathe as the rigid collar of his shirt digs further and further into his skin, and his current body won't be able to withstand another one of Authcom's punches. 

"I'm quite sorry," he spits out at long last, with the least amount of conviction he can muster, "for wounding your fragile ego."

Authcom smiles. It doesn't quite reach his eyes. "There we go, _da_?" he says. "Look, Nazi, you're _learning_."

He sets Nazi down onto the floor with ease, looking not the slightest bit winded. Nazi's knees buckle slightly when he reaches the ground, and he sways dangerously off-balance before Authcom threads an arm through his underarms and picks him up.

"You should get some more rest," Authcom says, not looking worse for the wear. "Keep your energy levels up. We have a lot of centrists to kill in a few days, hmm?"

Propped up in Authcom's arms, Nazi doesn't say anything. He allows himself to be placed on his bed, still trembling, and watches Authcom's back disappear outside of his room.

He won't forget this. Nazi does _not_ forgive and forget, much less run away with his tail between his legs. For now, he'll just keep this feeling simmering under his skin, never enough to reach a full boil, and then, when Authcom is least expecting it, the rage will erupt out in full force and swallow him whole.

* * *

Normally, when Jreg calls the house, all of the extremes gather in the living room to listen to and discuss the news together. 

This time, Nazi receives the call alone.

"Hello?" Nazi mutters into the receiver. He already knows who it is — Jreg has a custom ringtone — but he can't think of any good reason why Jreg would call him without including any of the others.

"Yeah look, Nazi, I've got some bad news," Jreg says from the other side of the line. "You remember what I said about Savitri Devi trying to merge with Julius Evola?"

"Yes?" Nazi says. "What happened?"

"I'm afraid you'll be in your current form for longer than we thought," Jreg says. "Savitri Devi has completely overpowered Julius Evola. I can't feel him in my brain anymore. She's completely cemented her place as one-fourth of my personality right now."

"I want to talk to her," Nazi says. He needs to let Savitri Devi know exactly what she's done by trying to play politics in a sphere she doesn't belong in. "Can you bring her out right now?"

Jreg sighs. "I'm afraid not. I don't know how powerful she is now that she's absorbed another fascist personality. If I let her be the main personality right now, I could risk shifting the Overton Window so far that you and Libright look like centrists."

Nazi clenches his fists. "Shit!" 

"Don't let this get the better of you, Nazi," Jreg warns. "You're going to have change tactics now that you've encountered this kind of setback. Get used to shooting a gun with your current frame. The Centricide... is in a week."

Nazi hangs up. It's obvious what Jreg is trying to imply: _don't hold the rest of us behind_.

 _Do I seem so weak?_ Nazi thinks to himself, resisting the urge to smash his fist into the wall. He's the authoritarian right quadrant, the very embodiment of terror, ruthlessness, blind obedience. He doesn't have an obvious weakness like Libright and his NAP, or require a shitload of drugs to even function, like Ancom.

But since when... did he become the weak link?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (not so) FAQ:
> 
> q: why is nazi so angry? didn't he enjoy woohooing with commie last night?
> 
> a: commie is confident that nazi feels something towards him, so he feels that nazi wanted to *woohoo* with him as well and therefore it was consensual. however, he failed to understand the power indifference between nazi and him, esp. now that nazi is physically smaller and weaker, and easily dismisses nazi's initial indications that no, this was not consensual  
> nazi feels taken advantage of and is furious at being so easily overpowered by commie (though he doesn't really understand it, because i mean i guess he's never really dealt with this before being the literal personification of fascism).  
> yeah i don't want to go to deep into this because this is literally something i wrote out of a fever dream but you get the gist
> 
> also the ancom x nazi tag comes out next chapter 
> 
> as always, i apologize for my writing level, i am sad high schooler with nothing better to do


End file.
